No Price
by Magdalync
Summary: Stephanie asks Ranger to do the unthinkable. A spin off series of vignettes which take place after the Maxim Online Survey trilogy. Babe.
1. No Price

Rating:M

Spoilers: Not really. But to be safe, through 14

Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money. Dammit.

**A/N: This will be a series of silly vignettes that take place after the calamity that is better known as my Maxim Online Survey trilogy. This may all go up in flames but I'll give it a try…**

** No Price**

Ranger's eyes locked on Stephanie's. Tension radiated off of his body and a muscle in his jaw ticked a steady pulse. "I told you before," he said on a harsh whisper, "There is no price for what we give to each other. Not financial, not emotional."

Stephanie took a step back. Her blue eyes were hot and shimmering with angry tears. "You said you loved me."

He looked away and raked his hand through his loose hair in frustration. "Of course I love you, Babe."

"Then I don't understand what the problem is."

He swiveled his gaze back to her and shot her and angry glare. "This is emotional blackmail."

Stephanie stared at him for the longest time. He saw the emotions pass over her face like a slideshow. First, incomprehension, then resignation, then her beautiful face crumpled into disappointment. His gut clenched but he forced himself to hold his ground. How could she ask this of him?

She turned away and slunk over to his sofa, collapsing onto it with a sigh. "Fine. I'll have Ella take care of it. Or maybe Lester would help me. I'm sorry I asked too much of you."

Fuck! They both knew that if anything, Stephanie asked for very little of him. That she had accepted him as her partner, her lover still astounded him. While he couldn't comprehend why this thing she wanted him to do for her was so important, he felt himself capitulating to the only person in the world who could bring him to his knees. And he'd be damned if Lester fulfilled a single need of Stephanie's that was his responsibility to provide. Stephanie was his woman; it was his job to take care of her.

He stalked over and dropped to his knees before her. He stroked her cheek with his hand then grasped her chin and nudged her head up with his index finger. When her big doe eyes connected with his, he said, "I will do this thing for you, Babe."

She shuddered out a shaky breath and gave him a tender smile.

He stood and scrubbed a shaky hand over his face before easing himself down beside her on the couch. "On one level, I understand your need to do this. I respect your passion and your tenacity…I just don't understand why this can't be put off another week."

"The book club meets tomorrow morning Ranger! Connie, Lula, Mary Lou and Grandma are all depending on me to lead the book talk. How can I do that if I haven't finished the book?"

Ranger turned to her, incredulous. "Why would you endeavor to start a book club the same exact week you are diagnosed as needing reading glasses, Babe?"

Stephanie popped off the couch, arms flailing. "I didn't know I needed reading glasses until I started trying to read the book!" Duh! "My glasses are special order! They're not going to ready for another week! Why else would I be asking you to read this to me?!"

"Settle down, Babe. Go get the book and we'll get started." Stephanie turned to go retrieve the book from her and Ranger's bedroom.

"Why don't you bring me a box to put my gonads in while you're in there," he growled under his breath.

"Huh?" her voice carried in from the other room.

Ranger shifted uneasily on the couch, adjusted himself, and muttered, "Nothing."

As Stephanie settled on the couch beside him, Ranger frowned down at the cover. There was some pansy-ass guy on the cover wearing what appeared to be a over large blouse which apparently had no buttons. His pants looked like fucking tights and the dude looked like he might have a flashlight in his pants. He was staring off into the middle distance probably thinking gay thoughts. Posed submissively in front of him was this chick with large breasts in a billowing dress. Said breasts appeared to be a shallow breath away from exploding out of her neckline. He wondered if Steph would wear a dress like that. The chick appeared to be clinging to the pansy's leg and she looked like she was contemplating an orgasm.

Ranger held up the book and waggled it in front of Stephanie. "What the hell kind of book is this?"

Stephanie folded her hands primly in her lap. "It's a Historical Romance."

"Don't book clubs typically read things a little heavier than trashy romance novels?"

"How do _you_ know what they do in book clubs?"

"Babe."

"Mary Lou picked the book."

"All right. Tell me I don't have to start at the beginning."

"No, I got about half way through before the headaches got to be too much."

Ranger smirked. "You mean, before you diagnosed yourself with a brain tumor."

Stephanie did a pout.

Ranger opened to the page that Stephanie had folded down. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly in abject shock. "You dog-ear the pages?!"

Stephanie smirked back. "I also break the binding really good when I first get it so it stays open better." She grabbed the book from him and opened it to the middle and bent it back on itself a few more times for good measure. "There. That should help."

The last time she saw this expression on Ranger's face, she had just put her feet up on the dash of his Turbo in order to get comfortable on a stakeout. Bare footprints on the inside of the windshield: acceptable. Scuffs and scratches on his beloved dash: death and dismemberment may be involved.

Ranger shook his head solemnly and then focused on the book in front of him. Stephanie expected him to start reading _aloud_ but instead, Ranger appeared to be scanning page after page before finally settling in where he felt like reading.

"Ranger, you can't just skip what doesn't interest you. It could be important to the plot. Something pivotal could be in the section you skipped and then I won't understand what's going on and then you'll have to go back and-"

Ranger looked incredulous. "Pivotal?"

"You know what I mean."

"Babe, I didn't skip it, I scanned it. Everybody went on a fox hunt and some dude named Wesley got shot in the arm. Then people hung out on the lawn and drank tea and ate petit fours and said snooty things to each other. There appears to have been an aborted duel. Blah, blah, blah. They ate dinner in the great hall…yaddah, yaddah….somebody played a pianoforte…Okay. Here we go:

" _Tristan pressed his hard length against Gwendolyn's quivering mound_," he read, obviously confused by the wording. He looked up at Steph. "Hard length?"

"Um…his, _you know_."

"Say it, Babe."

"His penis."

"Try again."

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon!"

"And?"

"Just keep reading!"

"_Gwendolyn shivered in her excitement. The Duke's long fingers were threaded through her golden tresses. Though still a maiden, Gwendolyn felt rush of longing and a sense of need at the apex of her thighs." _Ranger lowered the book to his lap in disgust.

"So if I'm reading this correctly, Babe, They're dry humping in the atrium. Although, it appears Gwendolyn isn't all that dry. Also, there seems to be a lot of emphasis on length."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Would you just _read_?!"

_"Tristan removed the fichu from the bosom of her gown and tugged the open neckline down fractionally. Her rose pink peaks pebbled in the chill air. Lowering his head, he gently laved one hardened tip, then the other with his tongue." _Ranger dropped the book again. "Why doesn't the author just say he's sucking on-"

"Just forget it!" Stephanie rolled her eyes and grabbed the book back from him. "If you can't take this seriously, I'd rather just reschedule the book talk. And from what I can see going on in your cargos, this scene isn't as lame as you're implying."

Ranger adjusted himself and picked up the book again. _"Tristan slid his hand up her creamy thigh and searched for the slit in her pantaloons. He sifted through her downy curls to her moist center." _Ranger slid a glace at Stephanie. "Babe, you're reading soft porn."

Stephanie sat up stiffly. "It is not! And if it _is_, technically, _you're_ reading soft porn."

"Babe, the only difference between this and Penthouse Forum are semantics. I prefer to just call a spade a spade."

"If only you _would _just call it a spade."

"What would you prefer I call it?"

UHN!

"That's not the only difference. This scene _could_ _really_ happen," Stephanie said.

"Babe, the stuff in Penthouse forum _does_ really happen."

"To whom?"

Ranger gave her a soft, almost-smile.

"That stuff better not be happening to you!"

"All in the past, Babe. Besides, I seem to remember yesterday my "secretary" came into my office to do some naughty dictation."

"I was there purely on business!"

"I don't remember calling you into to my office to _perform_ any dictation."

"Oh, you were _dictating_ all right!"

"Well you were taking too long to find your alleged dropped pencil."

"I did drop it! It rolled under your desk!"

"I thought it was a signal."

"It was a signal that I dropped my pencil! You think everything's a signal. Stephanie's in the shower…she must want sex. Stephanie's eating a donut…clearly, she must want sex. Stephanie's lying on top of me…"

"Babe."

"Well, okay…but those _other_ things don't mean anything!"

"Babe, do you want me to keep reading? You're looking a little sleepy."

"Keep going."

Ranger continued to read about Tristan's throbbing member and Gwendolyn's quivering sheath. He glanced covertly at Steph and noticed her eyes were glazed over, and not in lust. He decided to see if she was paying attention._ "Tristan looked up from his tender ministrations when he heard someone enter the atrium. It was Gwendolyn's lady's maid, and while she seemed embarrassed and somewhat shocked, Tristan could also see a suppressed longing in her eyes. At Tristan's discreet signal, the voluptuous maid stepped forward and pressed her breasts against Gwendolyn's back. Wrapping her arms around her Lady's waist, she went up on tip-toe and pressed hot, open-mouth kisses on-"_

"It does _not_ say that!"

"It does."

"It _does not_!"

"It could…"

"Only in your vivid, perverted imagination!"

"I told you before that I might be sick…sexually."

"I'm living with a deviant!"

Ranger put down the book and pulled Steph over onto his lap. He placed a soft kiss on her shoulder and said, "Fantasizing about two beautiful women is hardly deviant behavior. Men come off the production line factory equipped with that fantasy."

"Leave it to you to make a car analogy."

"You had experience with my…tastes before you made a decision to become my lover."

"I'm not into girls! The only girl-on- girl action you're going to see is me and Lula wrestling over a shoe!"

"Babe. I don't require girl-on- girl action. And could we change the visual to Mary Lou? Lula kind of scares me."

"Then maybe we should go over what you do require."

Ranger chuckled into her hair and nuzzled a kiss against her ear. "Babe, everything I require is sitting right here on my lap."

"On top your throbbing manhood?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't notice."


	2. The Cold War

The Cold War

The Cold War

I sat on the vinyl coach next to Lula flipping through files to see if there was anything I was willing to take. The bonds office was strangely quiet today. Connie was tipped back in her chair, tapping her nail file on the edge of her desk and watching me with an expression of scrutiny on her face. Lula was also quiet save for her gum snapping and cracking.

"What?!"

Lula said, "You been in and out of here a couple of times the last three weeks and you haven't said one word about Ranger. When you first shacked up with Batman, you had this goofy grin goin' on for almost a month and everything was "Ranger this and Ranger that. Now nothing. Spill it, white girl."

"What do you want to know?" I was trying _really_ hard to keep my face blank. I don't actually _have_ a blank face but I was hoping some of Ranger's blank face was rubbing off on me. What with all the rubbing and what have you.

Lula turned to me, incredulous. "You been livin' with Ranger for over two months now and I can tell when something ain't right with you. Somethin's botherin' your skinny white ass and I mean to get to the bottom of it."

Mental sigh. "I'm not living with Ranger."

"What you call it then? Rex is livin' there. Tank say you been there every night."

Tank. Who knew he could be such a Chatty Cathy? Tank needed to learn to keep his big, blabbing mouth shut.

"Somebody had to monitor his concussion."

Connie piped in, "You only have to do that for the first eight to ten hours. Bzzt. Try again."

"I have to make sure he doesn't over-tax himself."

Lula said, "Seem to me every time he within ten feet of you, he gonna try to over- tax himself…repeatedly. Umm-hmm."

"I've been doing more work for RangeMan so it makes sense to stay on site."

Lula shook her head. "Hmph. Tankie say Ranger's been on the warpath the last couple of weeks and you been ignoring Batman around the office. He say there's a tension. And not the sexual kind. Seem to me, you all supposed to be happily cohabitatin and all on account of Morelli bein' out of the picture."

"There's nothing wrong with maintaining a professional distance."

"That don't make no sense! You two don't know the meaning of the words "professional distance". You and Ranger are like a jar of peanut butter and a Hershey bar. Ranger anywhere near you and he gotta dip his chocolate…"

UGH!

I stood and picked up two files for me and five files meant for Ranger. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lula turned on me now. "What do Batman have to say about all this?"

I plunked back down on the couch again. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I'm not speaking to Ranger right now."

"You get in a fight already," Connie asked.

I squinched around on the couch only stopping when the friction started causing farting noises. I tried to get the couch to make the sound again to prove I wasn't farting, but the stupid couch remained silent. "No. I haven't spoken to him in three weeks."

Connie's nail file froze mid-tap. "Do what?"

"Lemme get this straight," Lula said, "Your boy stood up for hisself and went all medieval on Morelli's ass, you practically living with him and you not speaking with him? He havin' mechanical problems?"

"No, he's not having mechanical problems!"

"What do Batman have to say about all this?"

To be frank, I'm not sure what he thinks of this. Ranger is not the most loquacious man. In my head, I've dubbed him Talky Talkerson. It makes me smile. But he knows I'm a chronic verbal diarrhea sufferer so I'm thinking he has a clue I'm pissed.

The thing is, I was really pissed the first few days after we had words, and I'm sure I had a really good reason to be pissed. I remember it was a good fight. I was blowing a full head of steam and my arms were waving and there may have been head bopping. Ranger didn't say much but he got really quiet and was doing that sexy jaw-lock thing. I know I was making some good points but for the life of me, I can't remember what the original argument was about.

I know it might surprise you, but I'm one of those people who push a lot of issues under the rug. When I finally do get into an argument, I start out with the topic at hand and then somehow I start digressing into multiple issues. You could say I get off topic. The upside to this is I can easily change the subject if I think I'm losing. The downside is I sometimes get so off track that I forget what the original argument was about.

I know I was in the right. I'm almost positive. Right now, I can't quite remember why, but the point is…

Okay, so I don't remember the point, but now it's turned into an experiment for me, a sort of litmus test for our relationship. Morelli and I sucked at communication. I expected better from Ranger.

Have you seen the episode of Everybody Loves Raymond where Deborah and Raymond come back from a trip and Ray leaves the suitcase at the bottom of the stairs thinking Deborah is going to take it up and unpack it? She sees the suitcase sitting there, and in her head, it's Raymond's job. They both think the other should do it, but the thing sits there, day after day, both of them ignoring it. They each pass it and ignore it every time they go up and down the stairs, each convinced they are making their point.

This is my suitcase.

"I'm going to get Mooner." I stood and grabbed my bag and raised my eyebrows at Lula.

"I'm commin', I'm commin'. You think I'm gonna miss out on The Jetsons and a contact high?"

At 5:00, I made my way up to the 7th floor and was surprised to find Ranger on the couch in black, straight leg running pants and no shirt. Damn him. He's playing hardball. I thought about taking off my shirt to even the playing field but that might seem obvious.

I made my way into the kitchen, got a yucky bottle of water and came back into the living room and plopped myself on the other end of the couch. I grabbed the remote and started searching for Judge Judy. He leaned over and grabbed the remote from my hand, clicked it off and tossed it onto the coffee table with an air of finality. The King has spoken!

I turned to him and raised one eyebrow. Okay, they both went up, but he knows what I mean.

"Babe, you're a formidable opponent, but this has got to stop."

"…"

"We have to talk about this, Babe. If our relationship is going to work, we can't just ignore topics that are unpleasant. And it's unhealthy and borderline juvenile to completely stop talking to me for three weeks. We need to communicate."

_Are you kidding me? _This, coming from the authority on communication? Whatever! If that's not the pot calling… the bird in the hand…six of one…You know what I mean!

I cleared my throat primly. "Well then, why don't you head this meeting, Mr. Talky Talkerson?" Excellent plan! Now I'll know what the hell we were fighting about!

Ranger sat back on the couch and leveled a dark glare at me.

"Talky Talkerson?"

I said, "Hmmmm," but I was thinking, 'Oh, crap!'

He seemed to be waiting for me to say something else. Think, Stephanie, think!

I crossed my arms over my chest, crossed my legs and started my leg swinging. "My mother always taught me that if I didn't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. That's why I wasn't talking." There. That's mature.

"You were talking this morning."

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were. You said, and I quote, "Oh God, Oh Carlos, Oh, God, I'm gonna-"

"That doesn't count!"

"Babe, you're sending mixed messages. You haven't spoken to me for three weeks but we've made love at least a dozen times. You can't be _that_ mad."

"Hmmph." Just because he's an ass, I see no reason why I should suffer.

He shoved his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily. Ranger's been sighing heavily a lot since I moved in. Not that I've moved in or anything.

I watched him as he got up and sauntered towards the kitchen for a beer. I watched the play of sumptuously defined muscles in his shoulders and back as he leaned into the fridge for a bottle of water. Stupid muscles.

He came back into the living room, scooted my Etch A Sketch (Housewarming gift from Hal.) to the side of the coffee table and sat on it opposite to me. Now I was eye to eye with his stupid stomach that had zero fat, eight pack definition and didn't even roll on itself. Bastard!

"Babe, I've put off my mother for two weekends now. She wants to meet you. I'm not sure why that upset you so much, but it's important to me that you meet my family."

AH HAH! Now I remember! I remember that I was shocked and stunned that Ranger wanted me to meet his family. Also, a part of me was scared spitless. I mean, come on! Most women are nervous meeting their lover's family for the first time…but to meet the woman from whose loins Batman sprung was enormously intimidating. However, what set me off was the delivery. _"Babe, keep tomorrow open. Dinner at my mother's at 1800 hours." _

"You didn't ask me. You_ told me_! If we're supposed to be _communicating_ and having an _equal partnership_, you can't just unilaterally decide what we're doing and when we're doing it!"

"Unilaterally?" He smirked. "That's a big word, Babe."

Oh, no he di-int! I stood up between his splayed knees and poked my Italian finger in his face. (Not _that_ finger, I'm pissed, not suicidal.) "I'll show you some big words! Arrogant. Egotistical. Supercilious. Despot. Authoritarian. Autocrat…big, bossy stupid-head!"

He barked out a soft chuckle. "Sit down, babe."

I glared at him and tapped my foot.

He heaved out another sigh. "Please."

Since the Crown Prince of Darkness asked so nicely, I decided to concede. That, and my verbal tirade made me sort of dizzy.

He pulled me forward on the couch so that our knees were kissing. He took both of my hands in his and softly ran his thumbs in sweeping motions on the back of them.

"Babe…I am all of those things you said," He arched his brow, "except maybe big stupid-head. But I was all of those things when you met me. That's what made me a good ranger. It's what makes me a good bounty hunter. It's what built my business to the level of success I enjoy now. In some ways, it even helped me acquire the most important thing in my life."

I had been looking at our hands and was silently and reluctantly agreeing with what he was saying. Then his last sentence rang in my ears and I realized what those words might mean. Warm fuzzies were a rare commodity with Ranger and in some instances, I have learned to be satisfied with _implied_ warm fuzzies. This one, however, I wanted to hear.

"Um, most important thing?"

"He squeezed my hands firmly and said in a low voice, "You."

I'll admit, my heart did a little flip. I know he loves me, but when a big, macho man like Ranger says sweet nothings to me, it makes me feel all squishy inside.

"I understand what you're saying, Ranger, I do. But there's a time and a place for that. It doesn't belong in our relationship. This isn't the 50s and I'm not one of your soldiers. You can't just make decisions and plans without at least running them past me. In question form. It shows you respect me as your equal."

He was quiet so long, I wasn't sure he was going to respond. "You're right. Babe, I've never been in a relationship like this so you're going to have to tell me when I screw up. This isn't second nature to me."

"I know."

"So can I call my mother and tell her we'll come to dinner tomorrow?"

"It's too soon!"

"Babe, you've been a part of my life for over three years now and living with me two months. I'd say it's about time."

"I'm not living with you!"

"The carton of tampons under my sink tells a different story."

"But I need a haircut! I have nothing to wear! I can't get a sitter for Rex on such short notice!"

"Babe. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful. And the closet you don't share with me is full of your clothes. I think Rex will be fine alone for a few hours."

"But!"

"Babe. My mother is not that scary. She'll be nicer to you then she is to me."

"Your mom is mean to you?"

"She loves me, but I'm still fourteen years old in her eyes. There may be some head slapping and muttering in Spanish involved."

That sounded intriguing.

"And we'll only have to stay a few hours."

"Hours?! Plural?!"

"It could be worse. If we agreed to come for lunch, we'd have to join Mama at Mass."

"Christ!"

"Exactly. So are we good?"

I nodded and gave him a soft smile. Ranger stood and walked over to his desk and pulled out a notebook.

"What's that?"

He sat down, opened the notebook and flipped forward a few pages. "It's your list of infractions."

"I thought you were kidding!"

As he was writing, a saw a devious smile spread across his beautiful mouth. "Big stupid- head is pretty self explanatory but is Talky spelled with a "y" or an "ie"?"

**The following Monday morning via instant message:**

Babe: Are you there?

Batman: I'm signing off on payroll and I have an 11:00 meeting. You finally wake up?

Babe: I don't feel so good.

Batman: I can't imagine why not. You had five glasses of Sangria and had Kaluah in your coffee with dessert.

Babe: Alcohol is a good social lubricant.

Bateman: Well you certainly Astro-glided your way through dinner.

Babe: I was nervous. I wasn't that bad, was I?

Batman: You groped my brother in the kitchen.

Babe: OMG! Rear or frontal groping?

Batman: Rear. I'm going to give you a pass because you were three sheets to the wind and he looks a lot like me.

Babe: Did he like it?

Batman: Babe.

Babe: I was just wondering if my drunken groping mojo is better then my sober groping mojo.

Ranger: I'll have to insist that you keep your groping mojo experimentation limited to my person.

Babe:  You're no fun. Was that the worst of it?

Ranger: We may have some back-peddling to do. When Mama asked if we were planning on having any children, you told her, "We're giving Ortho Tri Cyclen a run for their money!"

Babe: What did she say?

Batman: She crossed herself. She may have said something about the rhythm method but I blocked most of it out. You'll learn to do the same in time. Your rendition of "Funky Town" was a bold move.

Babe: WTF?! Please tell me we were playing Singstar.

Batman: Sadly, no. You saw a statue of the Virgin Mary on the mantle and thought it looked like a microphone.

Babe: I want to die.

Batman: The good news is my nieces and nephews think you're cool.

Babe: Your nieces and nephews were there?!

Batman: They were eating at the kids' table in the kitchen. When I took you in the den to introduce you after dinner, you sat and watched music videos with them. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Babe: I'm getting a flash of something. Did I get up and dance to that Hannah Montana video?

Batman: Yes. Only it seemed you were doing the entire choreographed ensemble dance scene from "Thriller".

Babe: I rock!

Batman: Babe, how do you even remember the whole routine?

Babe: Weddings.

Batman: Come again?

Babe: Weddings. _Everybody_ does that dance at wedding receptions.

Babe: Helooooo?

Babe: Are you there?

Batman: I've seen The Macarena and perhaps The Hustle, The Electric Slide, and unfortunately, The YMCA and The Chicken Dance. I have never seen Michael Jackson's Thriller performed at a wedding reception.

Babe: Maybe it's just an Italian thing.

Batman: There will be no 'Thriller' performed at our wedding reception.

Babe: I thought we weren't planning to get married.

Batman: I'm just saying.

Babe: Your mother must hate me now.

Batman: She doesn't hate you. I believe you amused her. You have to understand that you're the only woman I've ever brought home to her besides Rachel, and she was already pregnant and my mother understood it was a temporary marriage.

Babe: This doesn't make me feel any better. She must think I'm a lunatic.

Batman: She was very excited that you agreed to join her for Mass next Sunday.

Babe: Jesus Christ on a bicycle!


	3. Down, Boy!

Down Boy

**Disclaimer:** Characters belong to Janet Evanovich and I'm not making any money…

No animals were harmed creating this chapter, but Ranger may be a little bruised.

**Down, Boy!**

It was late one Saturday evening and Ranger and the A team were doing a distraction at a bar called The Manhole. My skill set was not required on this particular job as the FTA was notoriously homosexual and not interested in the equipment I have to offer. Poor Lester was being used as bait. I'd have paid money to see it; however, Lester offered me 500 to stay home. As it turns out, I can be bought.

It was after midnight and I had already shot my Ghostbusters wad. Ranger's DVD selection includes: Scarface, The Godfather, Full Metal Jacket, The Matrix, Raging Bull, The Road Warrior, Reservoir Dogs, A Few Good Men, and Fight Club. He had a very small comedy selection which consists of Raising Arizona, Blazing Saddles and Rush Hour. I pulled out Raising Arizona and decided to do one more channel circuit before starting the movie. I also made a mental note to pick up a few "must have" movies for Ranger's collection. Wayne's World, The Jerk, and perhaps Blades of Glory would round out his collection nicely. I'm sure once Ranger gets a load of the death defying "Iron Lotus", he will be able to move past Jon Heder's flawless makeup.

As I was channel surfing, I came across an absolutely fascinating special on Animal Planet called, "Down, Boy! Retrain your Alpha Dog to Sit, Heel and Stay." Hmmmm.

I jumped off the couch and scrambled for some paper and a pen. This is brilliant! Why didn't I think of this sooner? According to this show, Ranger and I could be sharing our den, uh; I mean living in domestic bliss in six weeks or less!

I got slightly discouraged during the course of the show, when the host mentioned that the best results were found when training began before or during the puppy's adolescent stage. A shudder ran through me as I tried to imagine my attempting to take Ranger "in hand" when his testosterone was at its peak. He'd have tossed me around like a chew toy!

When the show was over, I tucked my notes in my purse and went to sleep with a firm plan to begin training in the morning.

**STEP 1: Sit on the floor; pick up your pup beneath the front legs at arms length. Look directly into his eyes, growling at him if he struggles. Hold him until he relaxes.**

When I woke up the next morning, I found myself sprawled across Ranger and our legs entangled. As I was nuzzling and kissing his chest, I remembered that training was to begin this morning. Parts of Ranger were beginning to stir so I quickly straddled him, and just as he was dozily reaching for my hips, I shoved both of my arms up under his, looped them around his back and tugged him upright. Damn, my dog is heavy!

Ranger let out a soft grunt and opened a bleary eye to me. "Feeling aggressive this

morning, Babe?"

Once I was sure he would stay sitting in an upright position, I scooted back, placed my hands firmly under his armpits and locked eyes with him. After a few seconds of heavy staring, he snaked his arm around my waist and reached down to grab a handful of my ass. Ugh!

I growled at him.

In the blink of an eye I found myself flat on my back. I remember thinking at some point during our first "training session" (which more closely resembled king of the hill) that perhaps I had my work cut out for me.

**STEP 2: Place dog on the floor with all four legs facing away from you. Hold firmly by the neck and press other hand firmly on his midsection. If he exposes his belly to be rubbed, you are on the right track. Do not allow him to struggle or nip. Praise lavishly in soft tones while he is still. This would also be a good time to look into his mouth to get him used to handling.**

I was still a little sore from our morning training session so I put off implementing Step 2 until we were lying on the couch together that evening watching a football game. He seemed to think it was odd that I chose to lie behind him but once the game started, he quickly lost focus on me. I waited until half time, (You have to be sure to have your trainee's full attention.) and curved my hand firmly around the front of his neck. My left hand was already placed across his midsection so I simply tightened both grips.

"Babe. We've only got like a half an hour," he said gruffly.

I said in my softest voice, "You are _such_ a good boy."

"Babe?" I think he sounded a little scared.

Still crooning in a sing-songy voice, I added, "You need to be _very_ still. I'll give you a nice treat if you stay _very_ still…"

Ranger froze for a second and then I felt him subtly relax.

"Maybe I'll need handcuffs," he said in mock belligerence.

I decided to ignore his comment and commenced rubbing his belly. He groaned.

He then grabbed my left hand and tugged it sharply south. He was otherwise continuing to lie still so I resumed his rewarding stroke-I mean rub. I felt this was a good time to climb over and straddle him to look into his mouth. So as not to startle him, I gently caressed his face and gave him a long, deep kiss. I leaned up and away and before he could completely close his mouth, I pushed my thumbs in hard at the joints of his jaw to force his mouth further open.

"OW! At 'uckin URTS! Ut da 'UCK you ooing?"

I said softly, "Good boy. Be still. It's okay."

He jerked his head out of my hands and grasped both my wrists instantly with one large hand. Damned opposable thumbs! There was a moment when our eyes locked and I sensed he was recognizing my authority. I looked deeper in his eyes and I realized what I first thought was a look resigned submission, might in actuality be a look of…Oh, crap.

Before I knew it, he had jerked upright, swung his feet to the floor, flipped me around and I found myself belly down over his lap.

He gently palmed and rubbed my bottom and in a low, crooning voice said, "I may be a good boy, but you're being a _very_ bad girl. What do bad girls get, Stephanie?"

Oh boy.

And so ends training session 2. I'm not sure, but I think I may have set myself back a few weeks by rewarding bad behavior.

**STEP 3: THE STARE**

**Eye contact is a good way to keep order in the wolf pack. When you initiate eye contact, you are expressing alpha position.**

The following Tuesday night, Ranger and I were sitting in the Explorer surveilling a skip's house. Ranger was sitting silently in his zone and I was trying hard not to nod off. I remembered Step 3 and thought that this was an excellent time to resume our training.

I was realizing that the first two steps involved bodily contact, and with said bodily contact, my training was taking on a sexual bent. Ranger does not need training in the sexual department. In fact, in some areas, I feel a good deprogramming might be in order. Ranger's areas of concern were his Alpha displays in the context of our communications, our working relationship and our general daily home life. Considering this, I decided it would be best to pursue training methods which did not involve putting my hands on his person.

I swiveled in my seat towards Ranger and commenced staring.

It only took five minutes of staring at his profile (and some pointed throat clearing) in order to get a reaction. Keeping his eyes straight forward, he said, "Babe, you need to watch the house."

I continued to stare and mentally sent him a message: _You are not dominant to me. You will submit to my wants and needs. I am your Lord and Master_. I know that last line was a little over the top, but I had to tweak the training suggestions a bit. I'm fully aware the training program was designed for dogs. Ranger is more of a mocha-wolf-bat hybrid. I'm not totally unreasonable; I can make concessions. Besides, he has ESP. Something had to sink in.

Still facing forward he said, "Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

"No."

"Did you run out of Tastykakes?"

"No."

"Cramps?"

"No."

"Are you feeling…_urges_?"

Just an urge to smack you. "No."

He finally turned to me and our eyes locked.

We stared.

And we stared.

And we stared….and then I felt his hand on my thigh. Something happened and I think my brain scrambled a little because my ESP message changed to: _Higher, higher, a little to the right…oh, yeah…_

I do believe we ended Step 3 with positive results. I mean, it turns out that he submitted to my will…right? I may have technically lost the stare-down contest, but _you_ try keeping your eyes open through a Ranger-induced orgasm.

**STEP 4 ALPHA DISCIPLINE:**

**Your dog will accept you as pack leader if you are consistent and fair in your demands. Never permit him to growl or snap. If this happens, grab him by the loose skin at the scruff of his neck. If he growls, stare him straight in the eyes and shake him. Then put him in his crate for 15-20 minutes and ignore him.**

I really wanted to see Mama Mia. Maybe I'm living in the past, but I have fond memories of Mary Lou and me belting out ABBA songs to anyone who would listen (and a few who were trying hard _not_ to listen) for one entire summer. The only bad memory from that time was that Mary Lou never let me be the blond girl.

I wanted to recapture the past. I wanted to stand in the aisle and sing. I wanted Ranger to take me. My name is Stephanie Plum and I am an ABBAholic.

I began my campaign Thursday morning from my cubicle. I had hooked my iPod up to little speaker so that anyone near me could also enjoy the musical styling's of the greatest supper trooping, super group to come out of Sweden.

The boys didn't seem to mind. I noticed Hal's head bopping over the top of the shared wall of our cubicles every time 'Does Your Mother Know' played. Lester seemed partial to 'Take a Chance on Me', but I think he was really trying to send me not-so-subliminal sexual messages with his requests to "Play it again, Beautiful."

Around 10:00 a.m. I heard the elevator doors whoosh open and an eerie silence fell over the floor. I forwarded to track 7. I softly sang along while feigning focus on my computer monitor.

_"Chiciquita tell me what's wrong… You're enchained by your own sorrow… iiiiiiiiiiiin your eyes, there is no hope for tomorrow." _

__**CLICK!**

Ranger had leaned over me and across my desk, clamped a firm but gentle hand on my neck and had shut off my iPod.

"Hey!"

"Babe, you need to use your earphones. That crap is distracting."

"You mean because of their enchanting harmonies?"

"I mean it's going to make my men's nuts shrivel and fall off."

His hand was still firmly on my neck and I was unable to turn to look at him. "But that song has Spanish in it."

"One word."

"But it's a good word!" So he's familiar with the song. Perhaps "Fernando" would have been more his speed.

He loosened his hand on my neck and I swiveled my chair to face him. I said, "I thought of something to do tomorrow night if you don't have to work."

He squatted in front of me and smiled softly. "I don't have to work. What did you have in mind, Babe?"

"Um…maybe dinner at Rossini's and then, um… wecouldgoseemamamia."

He jerked upright and his hands clasped into fists. You would have thought I was sending him on a suicide mission in size XS BVDs. His eyes narrowed and he said in a cool tone, "What did you just say?"

I sat up straight and looked him in the eye. I needed to assert my dominance. There was no room for error. "We could go to see Mama Mia."

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"No."

He's challenging my authority! I must act now! I stood up and clasped his shoulders in my hands and gave him a firm shake. Not a single part of him moved. In fact, I believe I only succeeded in shaking myself. He narrowed his eyes at me again. I was afraid if he narrowed his eyes any further, they would soon be closed. Had I thought the control room was quiet before, I was sadly mistaken.

Perhaps I shouldn't have tried step 4 in front of his men. Now would be the time to put him in his crate and ignore him. He has expressly forbidden me to implement my "wall of silence" treatment after my three week reign of terror, but these were desperate times. This was for the greater good of our relationship.

Before I could recall any tips from my plan to implement, he clasped my wrist and unceremoniously dragged me to his office. This couldn't be good. I was regretting my decision not to fit him for a choke collar.

Once we both passed through the threshold of his office doorway, he dropped my wrist and continued forward to seat himself at his desk. Still standing in the doorway, I looked around his office, avoiding his glare. And then it came to me. Office….crate. I would treat Ranger's office as his crate. I'm freakin Einstein!

"Close the door, Stephanie."

Okay, as soon as I'm on the other side of it! I spun around and coolly walked out, closing the door crisply behind me. I felt the eyes of every Rangeman on the floor upon me. I cringed as I heard the door opened behind me. The RangeMen all jerked their heads sharply back to their monitors. I was a good 15 feet from Ranger's office when I felt a sizzling tingle on the back of my neck just seconds before I felt Ranger's hand roughly grab my wrist. He spun me around without looking at me and hauled me back to his office. Once I cleared the doorway he slammed the door with a resounding bang that made the windows rattle.

He turned and pinned me up against the door and said in a low, feral voice, "You want to play Ozzy and Harriet up on the 7th floor, I'm game. In fact, it kind of turns me on. _Do_ _not _challenge me in front of my men."

How had this gotten so out of hand? I had a plan. I did research. I took notes!

I looked him straight in his simmering eyes. "You challenged me first."

He pushed slightly away and looked off to the side.

Turning back to me he said, "Babe, you can't suggest a chick-flick of that magnitude to a man like me in front of a bunch of retired military men, ex-cons and gang bangers and expect things to go well for you."

Abashedly I said, "Should I have brought it up tonight when we were alone?"

"Yes, you should have."

We were both quiet a while before he said, "Babe, did you try to _shake_ me out there?"

"Huh?"

He leaned back in, clasped the back of my neck firmly and stared, dare I say, dominantly into my eyes.

"Um…"

He lowered one hand to my waist and then curved it to my tummy before pressing inward so that my back was firmly glued to the door. He said in a calm, soothing voice, "Be still…_that's a good girl_."

This seemed somehow familiar but as his hand was rubbing gently back and forth, slowly going lower, and lower… and lower, I decided I would think about that later. Muuuuch later. Like while I was basking in my afterglow.

He removed the hand from the back of my neck and brought it forward to my face. He tenderly stroked my jaw and then my cheek. He then took his index finger and began sensually painting it back and forth over my lower lip. I opened my mouth slightly to taste his finger with my tongue. He allowed it for a moment but then inserted his finger more firmly against the edge of my bottom teeth and thrust my jaw down.

"Ut da 'uck are 'ou 'oing?!"

His lower hand was still industriously administering to my…uh…needs.

"Babe," he said softly, "I need you to promise me something." He removed his finger from my mouth. He brought that same finger to his own mouth and sucked the taste of my kiss from it. He then tucked a curl behind my ear while still holding me with his compelling gaze.

I found myself staring at his mouth and I may have been panting a little. "Uh…yeah, sure…what is it baby?" Why did I sound all breathy?

He removed his hand from my favorite place and leaned in until we were groin to groin. He nibbled lightly on the shell of my ear then gently but firmly nipped the lobe and whispered, "I need you to stop watching Animal Planet."

Damn Wizard.

**A/N: Steps listed in bold print were paraphrased from an internet article called "The Alpha Factor" in an online magazine called "Dog Owner's Guide". The article was found at .**


	4. The Talk

**Rated: M**

**Spoilers: Through 14**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money.**

* * *

**The Talk**

I was standing beside my mother in her kitchen, scraping and rinsing dinner dishes before handing them off to her to be loaded into the twenty year old avocado green dishwasher. My father had invited Ranger out to the garage for a cigar and I was stranded. Maybe I wanted to smoke in the garage. Maybe I wanted to scratch my, uh, nuts. Maybe I wanted to look under the hood of Big Blue. Well, I could at least kick a tire.

My mother had been especially quiet during dinner. This should have set off my Spidey sense but I must have been so grateful to not have her badgering me about living in sin and the grandchildren she was never going to meet that it went unnoticed until now. My mother reached in, closed the dishwasher and set it running. She then stood upright and indicated with her hand that I should have a seat at the kitchen table.

I warily sat down. I saw her open the pantry door and reach behind a box of Froot Loops to bring out a bottle of scotch. She then grabbed two glasses. The hair on my arms stood up.

"Mom. What's wrong? Is it Daddy? Valerie? Is something wrong with one of the girls?" I was seeing spots.

"Stephanie, we need to talk."

"Okaaaaay."

She poured us both three fingers each and belted hers down in one gulp.

"I never had a proper talk with you before you married Richard."

Good Christ, she had to be kidding.

"Uh, mom, that's okay…"

"No. No it isn't. Perhaps if I had spoken to you about…a man's expectations…"

I took a little nip of scotch. "Mom, I wasn't exactly a virgin when I married Dickey."

She waved her hands in the air as if she were diffusing a fart of epic proportions.

"Stephanie, I'm not naive. I realize that young people today believe in, er, 'test-driving' the car before making a purchase."

I thunked my head on the table.

"I also realize that Joseph, er, well, he may have, um, looked under the hood before you met Richard."

Looked under the hood? He checked my oil level when I was six years old! Since then, he had lubed my engine and machined my rotors. There had been piston action!

"Mom, do we really have to talk about this?"

My mother poured herself another three fingers of scotch, took a nip, and stared at the center of the kitchen table.

After clearing her throat, my mother said, "I feel that I should give you some advice that might help you if you would like things to last with this Carlos boy."

I let out a snort. "Mom, really…"

Mom held up her hand and said, "Stephanie, let me say my piece. Do you think it's by accident that I've held onto your father for nearly forty years?"

Oh, yuck. I so did not want to have this conversation. I slammed my scotch. Where the fuck was Ranger? What the hell kind of monster cigar was he smoking out there?

My mother leaned back in her chair, reached into the pocket of her apron, (yes, I said apron) and pulled out a piece of paper. She had a frigging list. I eyed the utensil drawer and considered for a moment grabbing a spoon to scoop my eyeballs out with.

She cleared her throat and began.

"Number 1: Never say no."

"Are you kidding me?!"

"Stephanie, a man has needs, and if you aren't willing to provide for them, he will be forced to go elsewhere."

"Mother!"

"Stephanie, you may not feel this way now, but, uh, intimate relations aren't always unpleasant, and given time, a man will eventually bumble across, uh, some key areas. If you indicate that it is causing pleasant sensations-you know, maybe a little twitch or a sigh-he will eventually get the picture and perhaps continuing, uh, bumbling in that area."

I poured myself another swig of scotch. My first though, after I swallowed back the small amount of vomit in my mouth, was regarding how long my mother must have allowed my father to "bumble" before …Jesus. More vomit. I couldn't go there.

So then I thought back to Morelli. Even at eighteen, he knew where all the hotspots were. He was WiFi capable. I suppose it was all the intense studying he had accomplished in his father's garage over the years.

Ranger knew my body instinctively. Even on our one night together, it was as if he had studied a map of my erogenous zones for years. I swear he knew my body better then I did.

With The Dick, a little guidance was in order. After a month of becoming lovers, it was apparent the man hadn't been properly trained. In his mind, sex was like shampooing. You know: lather, rinse, repeat. Only in his head, it must have been: kiss, insert, complete. I finally got fed up one night and grabbed his hand and said, "It's right here! At the top! Touch it; rub it, little circles…anything!" I think I embarrassed him, but I didn't care. I didn't own a shower massage at that point and Dickey was Obi Wan… my only hope.

"Mom…"

"Number two: Men sometimes want certain things that might seem…a little …distasteful."

Oh, now, this I had to hear.

"Like what, mom?"

My mother turned red and pulled her collar away from her neck and looked down at her notes. "Er…well, there's the, um, frappuccino."

I choked on some spit, cleared my throat and said,"You mean fellatio?"

"Yes…that. And _unfortunately_, that's perfectly acceptable _in the context of a loving marriage._"

"Mom, Ranger and I aren't married." Not that I was taking any of this seriously, but it was good to know, in my mother's mind, it was perfectly acceptable, expected even, that I withhold blowjobs in order to get a ring.

"Be that as it may, if you want him to stay…"

I am so glad Ranger is not hearing this. But then again…

She continued on. "If he is so inclined to, uh, reciprocate that, uh, thing _for you_, that is _acceptable_."

If he is so inclined? That's practically a requirement! Damned skippy it was acceptable!

"Anything else, Mom?"

My mother squinted back down at her list and cleared her throat a few times. "Number 4. The good Lord had only one intention for your bottom."

On this, my mother and I are in accord. I wonder if the Good Lord would explain this to Ranger. Perhaps I should light a candle or two for him the next time I go to Mass with his mother.

I had nothing to add to that bullet point in conversation so I went to stand. In a totally unprecedented move, my mother jerked my arm hard and my ass slammed back down into the chair. "I'm, not finished yet, Stephanie. We need to discuss Natural Family Planning."

Oh, for the love of God!

"You mean the Rhythm Method?" The only Rhythm Method Ranger and I practiced was fast, slow and the horizontal mambo.

"Yes, dear. You know it's the only sanctioned method of birth control in the eyes of the Church."

I was pretty sure that if the Church were aware of the shenanigans Ranger and I had gotten up to in the bedroom, we would both be excommunicated post haste.

Rather than argue with my mother about my feelings on birth control, I said, "I'll keep that in mind. So if there's nothing else…"

Mom laid her hands gently on my wrist and said, "Stephanie, your not getting any younger. Perhaps you should consider marrying your young man so you can start a family."

I said nothing to this and took a swig of scotch straight from the bottle.

My mother took this as encouragement to go on. "You know, you and this Carlos would have very beautiful children. Mixture babies are very en vogue now.

Scotch sprayed forward out of my mouth on a choke and I believe some came up through my nose. The burning in my nostrils and throat must have blocked out my Batman receptors because the next thing I knew I felt a warm hand on the back of my neck and the bottle being removed from my hand.

I looked up at Ranger through watering eyes and could make out the fact that he had one sardonic eyebrow arched. "Babe?"

I jumped up and it was Ranger's quick hands that kept me from falling on my face. In a slurry voice I said, "Ready to go?"

oOo

We were both quiet the first few minutes of the ride home. Ranger was driving in his zone and I was feeling slightly nauseas. I wasn't sure if it was from the scotch or the after dinner conversation. I was concentrating on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. Ranger hates it when I puke in the Turbo.

Ranger broke the silence. "Interesting conversation with Ellen?"

I kept my eyes closed and said, "It's Helen."

"You sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Have something you need to tell me?"

I peeled one eye open and rolled my head to the side to look at his gorgeous profile.

"Like what?"

"Babe, I leave you alone in the kitchen with your mother for twenty minutes and I come back in and you're completely blotto and talking about having my 'mixture baby'."

I closed my eye and rolled my head back. "I'm not having your mixture baby. And if I were, I wouldn't be feeding him scotch."

"Good to know. So what brought on the binge?"

"My mother thought it was time to give me 'The Talk'."

I thought I heard Ranger snort but that was impossible. Ranger doesn't make undignified sounds. "Babe, you're thirty years old, you've been married, you've dated Trenton's most notorious lothario for over three years and now you're living with me. Wouldn't you say that horse is already out of the barn?"

I jerked upright and squinted my eyes at him. It was intended to be a death glare but I guess its power was diluted by my blood alcohol content. "She was suggesting methods which would ensure I hang on to my stallion."

He did snort at that. "Explain."

I leaned forward and dug around in my purse, bringing out my mother's list. I took great pains to unfold it and smooth it across my lap.

"Number 1: Never say no."

"I can get on board with that."

"I think that should apply to both of us."

"Babe. I'm a man. Men can't say no."

"What if you weren't in the mood?"

"Never happen."

"What if you were sick?"

"I could work around it."

"What if you were injured?"

"I'd ask you to be gentle."

Hmph.

"What's number two?"

I looked back down on my list and barely suppressed my grin. "Number two. I'm supposed to provide you with 'frappuccino'."

Ranger frowned. "Babe, you know I don't drink coffee."

"Oh, I think you like this coffee. In fact, just last night, you were begging for this particular coffee."

Even in my peripheral vision I could see Ranger shudder. I'm assuming he was shuddering while imagining my mother discussing such a topic with me, regarding him.

He took a deep breath and said, "I'm good with frappuccino. I love your frappuccino."

"I believe she mentioned that I'm supposed to expect cappuccino in return."

Ranger let out a soft bark of laughter as he turned into the RangeMan garage. He parked the Turbo, unbuckled his seatbelt and swiveled in his seat to smile wolfishly at me.

"Babe, you know I love cappuccino. It's the only thing that goes with pie."


	5. Man Up

Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any money.

**A/N**: I don't think this one will make you spew your drink, but I wouldn't recommend reading while eating. Consider this a public service announcement.

* * *

**Man Up**

I stumbled out of the shower when I heard the land line ringing. Ranger had been in Atlanta for a few days and was due back this evening. He should already be in transit but with my luck, he was calling to say he'd be delayed another day.

"Hello?"

"Babe. You sound a little winded. Anything I should know about?"

"You got me out of the shower."

"Hmmm. Did I interrupt something crucial? You could put me on speaker phone… and get back to things. You know I'm here for you."

"What?! No!"

"Babe, no reason to get uptight."

Uhn! "First of all, you refuse to install a shower massager. Second of all, what the hell do you want?"

"Babe. You sound a little tense. I'm rethinking my shower massager position."

"I'm dripping here. Is there a purpose to this call?"

"I'm going to leave the dripping comment alone. I have some good news and I have some bad news. What do you want first?"

"I'll take the bad news."

"My flight's been delayed. I won't be landing until after seven tonight."

"So what's the good news?"

"We've been recruited to baby sit for Joaquin tonight."

Oh, hell no. "How is that good news?"

"It's not. I just know you like choices. Besides, this would be a good opportunity to show my family you can function sober."

"I was under a lot of stress that night!"

"Babe."

"What time do we have to be there?"

"Eight. I should be there shortly before you or at the same time."

OoO

Ranger, conveiniently, was not on time. Ranger's brother, Marco (you'll remember him from the groping debacle) and his wife Anissa had shown me around their beautiful home, reintroduced me to nine month old Joaquin, and had gone over an extensive list of the baby's do's and don'ts.

After they left, Joaquin and I settled on the floor in front of the television. I was watching the Ghostbusters DVD I had brought along and Woki (Hey, everyone needs a nickname!) was climbing over me in his terrycloth footie pajamas. Currently, he was half on my head attempting to eat my hair.

About twenty minutes later I heard Ranger let himself in. I couldn't turn my head completely as Woki had fallen asleep curled around my head and had a hank of my hair wound around his chubby fist.

Ranger set down a briefcase and some files on the floor near the TV and came over to squat down in front of me. He took in the picture we presented with a soft smile.

"Babe. You look like a natural mother."

Yikes!

"I took my pill this morning and I'm taking another when we get home. We should pick up some condoms too."

Ranger leaned over me and laid a soft kiss across my lips. He pulled back slightly and said softly, "Missed you."

He then set himself to the task of untangling my hair from Woki's fist, then picked him up from the floor and lifted him to his chest. Joaquin fussed a minute, and then settled his head on Ranger's shoulder sticking his thumb in his mouth.

Joaquin's coloring was a shade or two lighter than Ranger's but his wispy curls were the same blue-black as Batman's. My breath caught when I realized I could be looking at Ranger holding our child.

Crap! Where did that thought come from?

I watched as Ranger closed his eyes and buried his nose in Woki's neck and inhaled deeply. I knew what he smelled; that sweet combination of baby powder and sugary sweet milk. I had spent a good half hour with my own nose buried in his neck. He smelled better then a Butterscotch Krimpet!

Ranger must have caught my wistful look because as he lifted his face from Joaquin's neck, he smirked at me and said, "You want one?"

I sat up and said indignantly, "It's a scam! They smell good and have big eyes!"

Ranger chuckled as he stood, then offered me a hand to stand up. "Babe, I was saying the same thing to myself when I met you."

Hmph.

Ranger rubbed soft circles on Woki's back as he made his way to the nursery. He came back into the room carrying a baby monitor. He set the monitor down on the coffee table and sat down next to me on the sofa with another smirk. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into him, then buried his nose in my neck leaving a trail of soft kisses. "Babe, Joaquin smells like Dolce Vida. You couldn't keep your hands off him, could you?"

I wanted to pull back but I hadn't had any Ranger kisses in three days so I submitted myself to his ministrations.

I said on a soft sigh, "He's a Manoso male. There's not a woman in the country that can keep her hands off of a Manoso male."

He chuckled and said, "So Marco tells me."

"I was drunk! He looks a lot like you!"

"You're lucky Anissa is an understanding woman."

While we were talking, I had somehow managed to get myself pinned underneath 220 pounds of amorous Cuban male. Not a bad position to be in, but there was a minor in the house.

Unbeknownst to me, Ranger had already managed to unclasp the front closure of my bra and his hungry mouth had distracted me from noticing that his hand was snaking down the front of my jeans which must have magically sprung open at his command.

I jerked up as much as I could with a goal oriented, sexually deprived male on top of me. "Carlos…stop! We can't!"

He rubbed himself with deadly precision against my groin and I let out a moan.

"Oh, I think we can."

I shoved at his shoulders and scrambled from beneath him and refastened my bra before zipping and rebuttoning my jeans. "There's a baby in the house!"

"And?"

"We could scar him for life!"

"Babe. He's asleep in his crib."

"What if I make noise?"

"If?"

"What? It's not my fault! I can't help it!"

"I know. And I love it."

I smacked at him as he tried to reach for me again.

"Babe. Do you think couples who have babies don't have sex?"

"I prefer not to think about it!"

"Babe, I'm not hanging up the handcuffs and your naughty nurse uniform when we have a baby."

"Who said we're having a baby?!"

"I'm just saying."

I was about to come up with some clever retort when we heard a long wail emitting from the monitor.

Saved by the Woki!

I jumped up and rushed to the nursery.

Joaquin was standing in his crib and holding himself upright at the edge of the rail. When I got within a few feet from him, I could smell the problem.

I reached in and picked him up while holding my breath. Ranger had come in behind me and as I turned towards the changing table I saw Ranger stagger back and catch himself by clasping a tight fist on the back of the rocking chair near the door.

The look on Ranger's face was priceless.

Ranger looked on from across the room with horror in his eyes. He looked at poor Woki like he had committed treason against his country.

I looked over my shoulder at Ranger while I unzipped Woki's sleeper. "Ranger, he pooped. It happens."

Ranger's eyes squinted as he said on a hiss, "We didn't sign on for this."

"Ranger, everybody poops. There's even a cute little book by that title. Come over here and help me."

He stood woodenly near the rocker as though his feet were glued to the floor.

"Ranger. You're a big, bad, black ops mercenary. You've seen death and destruction in third world countries. You can't tell me you can't handle a little poo."

Both of Ranger's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "There's nothing little about what's going on in the back of that man's pants. I've waded through primitive sewers that smelled like a field of daisies compared to…that!" He pointed an accusing finger in the general direction of Woki.

"Carlos, if you _ever_ have any hope to impregnate me with your bat spawn, you'd better get your ass over here and help me."

Ranger shuffled over in slow motion with his hands in fists. I had been rooting around in the drawers beneath the changing table for wipes and I had one hand on Woki's belly securing him to the table.

"Here, hold him still so he doesn't roll off the table."

Ranger took a deep breath, choked, and attempted to take another. With his jaw locked tight, he replaced my hand with his.

I stepped away to head towards the en suite bathroom to look for more wipes. When I came back, wipes in hand, I heard Ranger having a man-to-man discussion with Woki in low tones.

"This is a disgrace, soldier. How could you do this to your uniform? It's everywhere! You crapped up your back, young man. We need to implement more fiber in your diet, and you need to be on a strict feeding schedule. You couldn't do this, say, this morning? Scheduled voiding is the word of the day, soldier. Repeat after me: _Scheduled Voiding_."

Joaquin was babbling and cooing back at Ranger, all the while pumping and waving his arms and legs.

I came to the end of the changing table nearest Woki's head and handed Ranger the packet of wipes. He put the packet near Woki's feet and arched a brow at me.

I said, "Surely you've done this before."

"Not with this kind of load."

"Just peel the tabs back and open the diaper, Ranger."

I swear I saw Ranger's hands trembling as if he were diffusing a bomb.

He looked straight at me to see if I was kidding. Sensing that I wasn't, he peeled back the tabs and opened the diaper. We both let out startled gasps.

"What the fuck are they feeding him?!"

"Ranger, watch your mouth!" I craned my neck over Ranger's shoulder to peer at the scene of the crime. "It appears they are feeding him mustard, sesame seeds, raw snails and…is that corn?'

I heard Ranger gag, and then swallow… twice. He said solemnly, "There has to be something wrong with the child."

"Ranger, you need to get that…stuff off of him." I pointed at the wipes.

Ranger grabbed Woki's little ankles in one hand and lifted his feet towards his head. Woki grabbed his own feet, obviously enjoying the game.

Ranger started wiping roughly and blindly in a hurry to complete what appeared to be the most heinous task of his life.

"Ranger, be gentle. And you have to open your eyes. You're scouring his armpit."

Ranger opened his eyes reluctantly and started scrubbing the ravages of war away from Woki's body with fervor. He then lifted Woki's bottom up a little higher to get underneath and said in shock, "How can you crap UP?! It's almost up to his neck, for the love of Christ! This defies gravity!"

Together we wadded up what had to be twenty used wipes into the used diaper and I sealed it into the diaper genie. Ranger had placed a new diaper beneath him and was about to bring the front back up to tape it closed when I stopped him.

"Ranger, you need to clean better around his…stuff."

"What?"

"His…privates. If you don't get all the stuff off around his privates, it will irritate him and he'll get a rash."

Ranger let out an aggravated sigh. He then waded up about five wet wipes and patted poor Woki's package like he was sponge painting a wall.

"Ranger, you have to move his…stuff around to be sure you get it all. You have to lift up his…uh, testicles and get underneath."

Ranger closed his fist on the wipes and glared at me. "I'm not touching his junk."

"Ranger, he's just a baby."

"There's things you can't expect a man to do."

"He's your nephew! Somebody did it for you!"

"I never did this," He said on a hiss while pointing to the diaper genie.

"You never pooped. Good to know."

I couldn't wait to talk to his mother.

oOo

We finally got Woki settled back into his crib. I watched as Ranger headed into the en suite bathroom and scrubbed his hands under scalding water as though he were a victim of Silkwood.

Finally, we settled back onto the sofa to watch television. It felt like we had been babysitting for years.

I was suddenly feeling a little amorous myself. I don't think I would be as bold to say it was my biological clock, but seeing Ranger taking care of Joaquin, albeit badly, softened my heart just a little. This man really would do anything for me.

I was already snuggled to his side so I rubbed my hand across the ridges of his stomach and slowly made my way to the waistband of his slacks.

His hand clasped down on my wrist.

"Not now, Stephanie."

"But you wanted to earlier."

Still staring at the television he said, "I'm not in the mood."

"What happened to, 'Men can't say no'?"

"Those men haven't seen what I've had to see. Don't push me on this, Babe. I'm feeling a little fragile."

* * *

**A/N** Sorry about that! I was having early baby years flashbacks and I couldn't get it out of my head!


	6. The Talk II

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not making any money.

**A/N: **A few of my reviewers indicated that I might want to tie up some "loose ends" to the chapter titled, "The Talk". I aim to please. Also, this chapter includes references to "Maxim Online Survey", so if you haven't read that, you may want to do that first!

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**The Talk II**

Everything was perfect. Candles were flickering around the perimeter of our 7th floor bedroom. Both of us had worked up a fine sheen of sweat. My Cuban Sex God was currently worshiping at the alter of Stephanie and he was showing no signs of tiring. His lips, tongue, teeth and fingers were performing diabolical things to my person and I was…almost…there.

I jerked upright. "Not there!"

His voice was muffled as he continued working those amazing fingers. "I slipped…relax Babe."

I lay back down and tried to get back into my zone. Oh yes. A little more…oh yeah. Mmmm. A little more pressure, a few little flicks…yes…ooooh yeah. Wait a minute…is he?

"Carlos! That was not a slip! That was done with intent." I clamped my thighs tight around his head and squeezed. Hard.

He rose up on his elbows and looked up my body through hooded eyes.

"Problem?"

"You know what the problem is."

He heaved out a sigh and sat up. "Babe. You need to just relax and enjoy and stop over thinking this. Lots of women find-"

"I don't want to hear what lots of women enjoy! It's wrong. That's not what it's for. The good Lord had only one intention-"

Ranger cocked an eyebrow up at me and said, "You enjoyed it just fine last week."

"I was confused! There was a lot of stuff going on at the time! You know how I have to focus. Maybe there's design flaw going on down there."

He glanced down at the area in question and smiled softly. "Everything appears to be in proper working order from here." He began to lean back down, presumably to return to his work. I placed my foot on his shoulder and forcibly pushed him upright again.

Holy Bat Smut. You see what I have to work with?

I scooted myself up to the headboard and clutched a pillow to my front. Ranger's face fell when he realized the game had been called, all because of illegal contact. I glanced down his body and noticed that other parts of his anatomy had not heard the ref blow the whistle.

He sighed as he sat up then leaned over the edge of the bed to grab up his silk boxers. He sat at the edge of the bed and put them on. Glancing over his shoulder he smirked at me and said, "Is this about that ridiculous list your mother gave you?"

I huffed indignantly and said, "It's not ridiculous."

He gave me his version of the Burg eye roll and went over to his nightstand drawer and pulled out…a file. A _file_?

"What's that?"

He tossed it on my bare thighs and sat next to me, stretching himself out like a cat. He linked his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes and said, "Your case file."

What? I flipped it open. The first page was a printed out copy of my Maxim Online Survey.

"You kept this?"

"Of course. Insurance. I keep impeccable records. My survey is the next page."

Well, this I had to see.

I scanned down the frighteningly familiar questions. "_Less_ then twenty partners?"

He shrugged. "Maybe twenty-ish. I never counted. And none of them count except for you."

Hmph.

I scrolled down further. Bondage. No surprise there! "You know, I remember you saying that you don't need handcuffs to enslave a woman."

"_Need_ being the key word, Babe. You never asked me if I liked them. Besides, you have authority issues."

Yes master. What? Mental head slap.

I continued my perusal and stopped suddenly. I screeched, "You've participated in a ménage a trios?"

The jerk didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. "Sure."

"Sure?!" As if I'd asked him if he'd like fries with his Coke .

"Babe, what do you want me to say? The situation presented itself. Who was I to say no?"

Who indeed. Behold Ricardo Carlos Manoso: he lives to serve. "Uh, was it two girls…or-"

His eyes flew open and he glared at me ominously. "Babe. That is the only combination I acknowledge."

Geesh. Just asking.

Okay. Here we go: booty sex. I read his response. "Ranger! Have you no shame?!"

He turned towards me and chuckled. "What? People do it."

"Yeah…uh, homosexual men!"

"And heterosexual couples."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Stephanie, you can't be that naïve. Besides…if you'll flip back to your survey, you'll notice that while you may have been," He did air quotes, " _confused_ that night, you weren't totally…shall we say…averse to certain methods of stimulation."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You know, there are a lot of activities that homosexual couples employ that hetero couples enjoy as well.

"Name one."

"I believe I was performing a favorite lesbian activity on you not ten minutes ago."

What ever.

I flipped back to Ranger's survey and scanned down to the section on dirty talk. Damn him. I found that while the dirty talk seemed awkward to me at first…it was hard to put that genie back in the bottle. You know, it's like when you avoid ordering TiVo for years because of the cost and your denial of your television addiction. You finally break down and order it, and once you have it…you don't know how you lived without it. Sneaky bastard.

I flipped past our two surveys and my ever growing list of 'infractions' and found my mother's list from our "special talk". Next to the line item which stated "I should never say no", there were six hash marks.

"What's this?"

He reached over back into his nightstand drawer and grabbed a pen. "Times you've said no." He grabbed the file from me and added a hash mark to the other six.

"Hey!"

"You called the game."

"You preformed an illegal maneuver!"

"Only in some states. Besides, you know that I operate in legal gray areas."

Uhn!

Before he handed the file back to me, he smirked at my mother's other instructions. "I'm glad your mother is on board with frappuccino."

I snorted. "I shouldn't be serving you frappuccino unless we're married."

He looked stunned, and then his face slid into a calculating expression. "I can withhold cappuccino, you know."

Checkmate.


	7. Bed, Bath and Beyond

Disclaimer: Same as always!

* * *

**Bed, Bath and Beyond**

Sometimes even I can't believe the situations I get myself in. Currently, I am standing in our bathroom, naked, half in and half out of the shower and…wait for it…handcuffed to a shower rod. Strangely, this was my idea; I actually implemented this clever plan. Our shower doesn't even require a rod so I had asked Hector to install one this morning shortly after Ranger left for an off site meeting. Hector gave me some strange looks but for some unknown reason he's loyal to me and I knew he would ask no questions. Well, he might, but I don't understand him. We're both satisfied with this arrangement.

What facilitated this brilliant idea, you ask? I might as well tell you. I've been freezing my ass off for over forty minutes with my left arm hiked over my head, so it seems I have plenty of time.

It appeared I had acquired yet another stalker last month. Ranger had called a staff meeting with myself and his core team so we could pore over the files of all of my skips since the beginning of my BEA career to see if we could narrow down the list of suspects.

It turned out my stalker was not an FTA, but a harmless teenage boy with a crush. He worked part time at the Tasty Pastry. _So_ not my fault. Ranger had a "little talk" with him. I'm not sure what exactly went down that day but my stalker has ceased being a problem. I asked Lester what happened and all he said was, "Mr. Pissy Pants won't be bothering you anymore." And then he cackled like a lunatic.

But I digress. While I was studying my portion of files, I came across a very familiar name: Joseph Morelli…my very first FTA. I wasn't quite sure why Connie included him in the pile since I knew, without a doubt, he was not my stalker. Probably she thought she was being funny.

Just for kicks and giggles I went through the file and noticed the date I turned him in. I counted back and figured out the date I removed his distributor cap and in turn became a hostage in my own shower and was forced to call Ranger for assistance. I realized that the 17th of next month would mark the four year anniversary of that auspicious occasion.

Since we have been together, Ranger has admitted that he had not only fallen victim to impure thoughts about me when he came to my rescue, but he has had many fantasy scenarios play out in his head ever since.

Come to think of it, that man has a never ending and very specific list of fantasies that would make your hair curl, or straighten as the case may be. I think I know now where Ranger's mind goes when he is in his zone: Ranger's Emporium of Pornographic Delights. He's a menace.

Crap, my fingers are starting to tingle.

Anyway, I decided that since this particular fantasy seemed fairly tame in comparison, I would surprise him on the four year anniversary of the original occurrence. I pictured him walking in, raking his eyes up and down my body in feral lust, unlocking the cuffs (or not!) and having his way with me.

He was supposed to be home 50 minutes ago.

As I was examining my left armpit and noticing I had missed a spot…repeatedly, I heard the locks tumble on the front door. I quickly leaned back as far as I could into the shower and turned on the faucet quickly to get the proper "wet look". Okay, I was going for the sexy, glistening look but I would actually settle for bringing my afro down a notch. I'd done this twice already and I couldn't reach my gel. My hair was beyond scary. I shut off the water, struck my best "damsel in distress" pose and called out, "In here!"

The door swung open….

Holy Housekeeper!

It was Ella.

I swung myself into the shower as far as I could go while still tethered to the shower rod and turned on the water.

"Sorry, dear! Just came to deliver some towels."

"Mmm-kay!"

I tried to tuck myself tighter into the shower but all I succeeded in doing was to drag the metal of the cuffs along the sturdy metal rod eliciting a bone chilling screech ten times worse than fingernails on a chalkboard.

Ella backed out of the linen closet and reached under the sink to grab a new bottle of Bulgari body wash.

"Do me a favor, dear? I noticed when I cleaned the shower yesterday that Ranger was running low." She handed me the bottle as if I were fully clothed and standing in the kitchen and she was passing me some milk.

As I took the bottle from her she asked, "Will there be anything else?"

I am absolutely floored by the level of this woman's professionalism!

"I'm good!"

She turned to leave. She stopped and called over her shoulder, "Dinner at 6:00?"

"Ummm. How about we play that by ear."

"Of course, dear."

And she was gone.

I thunked my head against the shower wall. What must she think of me? She already knows I'm over-sexed. She's taken to purchasing sheets in different colors and I believe she did it in order to send some sort of message. I'm mortified by the fact that the woman is privy to evidence of our lust each time she makes our bed. It seems that every time we turn down the comforter and there is a new color of sheets on the bed, she's shaking her matriarchal finger at us and saying, "I know what you filthy children are up to. Again!"

Even worse is the fact that Ella is friends with Ranger's mom. Surely she wouldn't tell her she found me chained up like a love slave in our den of iniquity…uh, I mean our shower. You have no idea how many candles Ranger's mother _already_ lights for me at Mass. I can't be held responsible for burning down a church.

Now my entire left arm is starting to get that pins and needles sensation. I look back at my armpit. How could I miss that spot _that_ many times? Another week and I could get a braid going.

I jerked my head up from my examination when I heard the locks on the front door tumble.

I swing back in a misguided attempt to drown the exploding buffalo perched on my head.

"In here," I call out coyly.

The door swings open…

Holy naked nightmare!

It was Tank. He staggered back, eyes glued to my breasts. Then he slapped his hand over his eyes, bumped into the door frame and fell on his ass.

"What the Fuck, Bombshell?!"

Shit. This is so not going as planned. I tried to figure a way to cover up with only one arm and came up empty. I could cover both breasts but leave my doodah exposed, or I could cover one breast and my doodah. But if he could see one breast, he would be able to deduce what the other looked like. Damned matched set. I twisted around to put my back to him instead. "Um…is Ranger back yet?"

I heard nothing but shuffling so I turned my head over my shoulder to see Tank still on the floor with one hand over his eyes and the other digging desperately in his pocket.

He was muttering something 'not answering the damned phone' and 'keys'.

I sighed. "Tank, I don't need you to uncuff me."

His hand dropped and his eyes popped open for a second before he bunched his fingers up against his eyes and appeared to be pressing them inward. He seemed to be trying to squish them in. I could hear squeaking noises. In a strangled voice he said, "What the fuck kinda games Ranger got you playing! This aint right! Fuckin' deviant. He's been gone since this morning!"

He appeared to be hyperventilating.

"Tank…uh, I did this. It's supposed to be a surprise."

"Jesus, Bombshell. Ranger's gonna kill me."

"Why?"

"I've done seen you naked, that's why! Christ. This is awful."

Okay, I may not be Elle McPherson...maybe more like Jennifer Anniston with J Lo's ass, but come on. I swiveled, unsuccessfully trying to get a gander at my own ass.

"It can't be that bad!"

Tank had crab walked around the doorway and was now on the outside of the bathroom. All I could see was his mammoth left leg and a shiny combat boot. "Bombshell, you put together right nice from what I saw. But I saw it. Ranger's gonna put my head on a pike when he gets home. Lula too, for that matter."

I said in a small voice, "We can swear each other to secrecy."

"Fine. But he finds out, I aint bein' all chivalrous and shit about this. You gotta take the blame."

I huffed indignantly.

"I'm the victim here," he exclaimed.

"Scared of Ranger much?"

"Shit. You want me to call him and see what his ETA is?"

"Could you? I think he's been calling but I couldn't get to the landline and I left my cell in my purse."

"You don't have the key to the cuffs?"

"I tossed it on the counter… and it fell in the sink… and went down the drain."

I heard him snort.

I saw him rise up and cross the bedroom to my purse. He rooted around for a bit before pulling out my cell. He backed up to the bathroom door, placed the phone on the ground and kicked it backwards towards the shower. After performing some Cirque du Soleil maneuvers, I was able to grab the phone and place it on the ledge next to my razor.

I heard the atonal beeps of him speed dialing Ranger from his phone. Then he put the phone on speaker.

"Yo."

"Yo, man. What's your ETA?"

"You my wife?"

I heard Tank growl. "Look, there's a situation with Bombshell and-"

"Explain," he bit out.

"She's fine…she's on 7. I think she's…uh…shit. When are you going to be here?"

"In about twenty minutes. What the hell's the problem?"

"Dude, you just need to get here and take care of some things."

Click!

"He fuckin' hung up! How do you live with that man? Got no manners. His mamma raised him better-"

"Tank, why don't you just go ahead and go. He'll be here soon and I'm sure you don't want to be here when that happens and I'll be fine and…Tank? Hello? Helloooo?"

Guess he left. Hmmm. Maybe I can get that spot I missed in my pit. Crud. I could reach my razor but I dropped the soap. A little dry shave might be in order. Surely he'll show up before the razor burn rears its ugly head.

Another thirty or so minutes have passed and a new situation has developed. Not only is my entire arm numb and throbbing, but now I need to pee. I'm sure Ranger will be up here any moment but that might put a damper on my seduction scene. "Hey baby, can you uncuff me…so I can tinkle? No?"

Who could I call? I tried to think of a Rangeman who I barely knew. Maybe cut down on the embarrassment factor. Rodriguez came to mind but knowing him, he'd show up while I was blinking, bring me up a pile of searches, and disappear before I opened my eyes. I called Hector.

"Hola?"

"Hector…I need some help."

Click!

What the hell? I started eyeing the shower and debating the merits of turning on the water and relieving myself there. Ick.

All right. Think of something else. Hmmm. I wonder if Ranger will leave me handcuffed and have his way with me. Or maybe he'll uncuff me, throw me over his shoulder and toss me on the bed caveman style. He'll grind his groin into mine, pressing his hard length against my….bladder! Mayday, mayday! Peeing is imminent! I'm about two minutes from a urinary disaster!

Suddenly I heard the locks tumble. Thank God!

"Beautiful, are you okay-"

"NO!!"

Too late. Lester swung the door open and stared at me unabashedly. It seemed to take a minute for him to find his tongue. It was hanging out of his mouth. Apparently, he did not feel any sort of fear or respect of the wrath of Ranger.

I was dancing on my toes, clutching my breasts in order to minimize jiggling and swinging this way and that so he couldn't get a good look. I hoped.

He leered at me and winked. "Is this for me?"

"No!"

"Ranger leave you like this? Cause I gotta say, if I ever got you cuffed up like this in my apartment, I don't think I'd ever want to leave."

"Lester."

His eyes dropped down "Cold?"

"Lester, I have to pee!"

"So I shouldn't tickle you when I unlock you?"

Uhn!

"Just close your eyes, walk forward two steps and hold your key out."

"Are you crazy?! I'm not closing my eyes!"

"Santos, focus! Ranger is going to be here any minute. If you don't close your eyes and hand me the damned key, I'm going to tell Ranger you did this to me."

"Geez, Beautiful. Why do you hate me so much?"

I unlocked myself, slammed the door in Lester's leering face, peed like Austin Powers, threw some gel in my hair and spritzed on some Dolce Vita. I recuffed myself, only this time, I decided to cuff my right hand. My left arm no longer has any feeling in it.

"Okay Lester, you can go now. Lester? Helloooo?"

Fine. Good riddance.

A couple of minutes later, I heard the locks tumble yet again. At this rate, I was expecting the entire Trenton Police Department, my mother, Joyce Barnhardt, Morelli and Bob the dog to come waltzing in.

"Babe?"

Sigh.

"In here."

At this point, I no longer needed to act like a damsel in distress. I wanted Ranger in here more than I wanted a Doomsday orgasm. Well, actually I wanted him in here _for_ a Doomsday orgasm, but you know what I mean.

The door swung open and my eyes locked on his beautiful chocolate ones. I heard his breath catch a moment before I saw his eyes go black.

I watched his eyes take in the newly installed shower rod, my cell phone and the key. I could see the moment he realized I had set up the scene.

He stepped forward slowly, raking his eyes over me, taking in every inch. Thank God for the dry shave! He lifted a hand and cupped my cheek. His other hand threaded its way through my hair and he whispered his lips across mine.

The hand that had cupped my check traced lightly down my neck, along the outer curve of my breast, skimming the inward curve of my waist before he used a single finger to deliver a delicious stroke low across my abdomen. My stomach muscles to contracted reflexively. He whispered in my ear, "So beautiful."

I moaned.

And then he left the room.

What the hell?!

After a few minutes he came back and I could see he had something in his hand. The key? I already had a key.

He dropped to one knee before me.

Oh God.

He took my left hand gently in his own. He looked solemnly into my eyes and said softly, "Stephanie. Marry me."

What? Did I crack my head in the shower reaching for my razor?

"Please."

Holy Matrimony!

"You can't be serious."

His head dropped and I heard him expel a dejected sigh.

"No Ranger…I mean, YES! But…look at me."

He lifted his head and looked into my eyes again. It took my breath away when I saw the love, confusion and insecurity in his expression.

"Ranger, I mean…look at me!" I waved my left hand around wildly; displaying my body like a prize by a hostess on the Price is Right. "I'm naked and I'm handcuffed to a shower rod! This can't be my proposal! What will we tell our kids?!"

His eyes softened, he smiled and it seemed as if all the tension in his body rolled away.

"Babe, it's perfect. Your perfect. I was waiting for the perfect moment. You gave it to me. You give everything to me."

He took a firm hold of my left hand and slipped a stunning diamond ring on my finger with damp, shaky hands. Once the ring was in place, he laid a tender kiss on the stone, and then turned my hand to lay a sensual kiss on my palm.

Still on one knee, he looked up at me and whispered, "Do you want me to take off the cuffs?"

I smiled a watery smile at him.

"I do."


End file.
